


Those Soft Brushes

by Atse Hashke (chabulous)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/F, Night Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chabulous/pseuds/Atse%20Hashke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: A mysterious disease strikes in Night Vale. Dana has to take over radio host’s position for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Soft Brushes

**Author's Note:**

> Omg, crappy English skills are crappy, I hope it is enjoyable at least. I actually had much more fun that I expected writing it~ ♥  
> proof reader: [kashikosa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kashikosa)

“Cecil?”

It was time for their audition to begin, but Night Vale’s radio host remained still, crouching above the spilled bee milk Carlos had been going crazy about for a week now. It was said to cure the latest disease of half-transparentness that lately had invaded their town causing a partial wipe out of the citizens. Partial – because one could still see them, frozen in the position in which the disease greeted them. Certainly, Cecil got a test sample of the milk as a preventive treatment. Seeing it wasted must have hurt, given he was always so excited whenever he got something from Carlos. But what was currently Dana’s problem was not the wasted proof of love disappearing in between the wood planks, feeding the countless little creatures that lived in the radio station that noone had any idea about. Except for Carlos, of course, Dana corrected herself, Carlos knew so many exciting things about everything that existed and did not exist yet, but probably soon will, given that Carlos says so.

 

Since they were already late with their radio program (Was it even possible to be late in a town, where time didn’t really exist? Maybe that was, ironically, why Dana noticed the delay – through some ridiculous collision of their dimension with some… Carlos would have known the explanation, but Dana had more important things to do) she sat in Cecil’s chair and turned on the microphone. Stressed or not, intern Dana (or her doppelganger) had to save the day.

 

“How are you feeling?” She started, slightly unsure. She’s heard Cecil doing the introduction part thousands of times and now it felt so out of place with her voice instead of his. But she was doing what she thought was the right thing. After a short moment of hesitation she continued. “No, no, no. How are you _feeling_? Ask yourself. Ask your erythrocytes. Ask your leukocytes. And don’t forget about your thrombocytes. Welcome to Night Vale”

 

Proud of herself, with a slight smile visible on her face, she turned on the music intro and in the meanwhile looked towards Cecil to check on his state. Nothing has changed, maybe he was a bit more to the left now, but that was possibly just her imagination. Just in the corner of her eye though, she noticed some motion. But since it was almost outside of her periphery, she couldn’t be sure. It probably was nothing big, more of a feeling of an image than actual image. Deciding to ignore the feeling for the time being, she returned to the audition as soon as the music stopped playing, becoming the voice of Night Vale for the night. Of course, since it was a sudden change, she had nothing prepared, so she’s decided to report what was going on in the studio.

 

“Dear listeners, if you’re wondering where your beloved voice of Night Vale went, please do not panic. I repeat - do not panic. This is Intern Dana (or her doppelganger, I’m not sure which one I am anymore) and I report that Cecil Gershwin Palmer is crouching right next to me, half-transparent and not moving. Although it is quite a terrifying view, I repeat once again that you should not give yourself in to fear’s arms. It will wrap you up in a tight cocoon made of your worst predictions and hand you over to the dark hooded figures… or worse, the angels, who will force you into listening to their poetry and go bowling with them and never stop smiling at you. Do not panic, Night Vale. Do not panic. And now, I’ll bring you the traffic”

 

Dana found some pre-recordings made by Cecil and played them. That’d granted her some time to think of what to say next. But then she noticed it again – a slight movement almost, almost creeping its way to her peripheral vision and this time she felt something brushing against her cheek. It almost felt like ladybug’s legs, but not quite. It was definitely much softer. The touch felt almost unreal. Then she felt the same delicate brush on her shoulder. Intern Dana froze for a moment. Could it be that the disease, that visited the studio a moment ago to take Cecil, came to say hello to her now? Was it the end of the Night Vale Radio Station? Was it the plan of StrexCorp along with their smiling god? Dana knew they should never have trusted the Strex Corp organisation. Now it was too late. She turned around to meet the disease but instead of it she saw… nothing.

 

She could still feel something touching her shoulder. After what seemed forever for her (but couldn’t have been that long, because Cecil was still talking about the traffic) she heard a voice that immediately put her at ease. “Hello, dear.” The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home was standing right next to her, her shadow lingering in intern Dana’s periphery. Dana couldn’t help but to let out a sigh of relief. Although ready to face the danger if it’s needed, she was more than happy knowing that she wouldn’t have to face it all alone. “I’ve redecorated a bit. Cecil seemed to be not exactly where he should have, so I’ve moved him a little. Ohhhh, and that test tube he’s broken is laying on the desk now. I tried to fix it, but I’m afraid not much can be done about it” Dana could almost hear the pout in The Faceless Old Woman’s voice and she felt the need to cheer her up, but she didn’t know how, so she just remained still on the chair. “This desk is so messy. You could seriously use some help here.” She heard and even though she couldn’t see it, being turned away from the desk, she was sure that all the things located on it have moved, was it the slightly changed angle of the documents, or a complete removal of some broken pencils.

 

Soon The Faceless Old Woman was back, standing beside Dana, who closed her eyes to imagine the entire happening. When she closed her eyes she saw her, her indescribable figure leaning slightly closer to Dana, so that her head would be right against the intern’s ear. Dana’s always thought that calling The Faceless Old Woman old was an exaggeration and now in her imagination she saw a body of a strong, young woman with a nice arse. She chuckled to herself at the thought that she actually wouldn’t mind patting it, if she was given the chance. But in the mental image in Dana’s head there was also a little dose of fragility, something that made The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home look vulnerable to her. Someone she, the brave intern, was willing to protect. Of course that image was quite contrasting with The Faceless Old Woman’s personality, but that’s just how Dana saw her – this picture was hers and only hers. When The Faceless Old Woman spoke up again, it seemed as if she was whispering right against Dana’s ear. “Dear, it looks like the traffic is over” she said.

 

Indeed, the silence was hanging in the air. She turned around (noticing that the desk became a lot less messy) and pressed the button: “Excuse me, dear listeners, it looks like we’re having a busy day in our radio station today and we get quite…” “Distracted, dear.” “Yes, distracted. Now, lets move on to the…” Dana looked around, searching for anything she could use “…recording of the sounds of the moths flying towards the lamp.”

 

That bought her some more time and she could be back to imagining… no, fantasizing about The Faceless Old Woman. She closed her eyes again, just a moment before she heard the next words. That way she had a chance to see a smile on a faceless face when The Faceless Old Woman spoke up. “I didn’t really like the buttons of your shirt, so I’ve played with them a little. Now they’re a little less round, more ovate. I like this shape. It accentuates the shape of your chin.” Dana didn’t respond. It felt almost like a blasphemy to break the silence that surrounded them for a moment, until another moth hit against the light bulb. The intimate moment between them - created mostly in Dana’s mind, but she didn’t let that bring herself down - was perfect like that and Dana wished it could last forever. She craved those light touches and delicate brushes like never before. In fact, that feeling was something new to her entirely, since she’d never craved anything before. When she felt the soft touches of those ladybug legs on her chin this time, she knew they were The Faceless Old Woman’s fingers and that knowledge made her shiver.

 

“Are you sick, dear?” The Faceless Old Woman seemed concerned. “But you’re not see-through yet.” “N-no, it’s nothing.” Dana stuttered, hoping she wasn’t blushing. It was embarrassing for her to be caught off guard like that. She shook her head and opened her eyes again. “Ohhh, by the way, I remember what I came for” She heard The Faceless Old Woman happily exclaiming. “I brought you some bee’s milk. Carlos was too busy to deliver it on his own and asked me to bring it over to the radio station in case you needed it too. I left it on the shelf right next to the door.”

 

Dana (or her doppelganger) would have hugged The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home if she knew how, but since the scientists didn’t come out with any mindblowing invention that would let one hug the people who appeared outside of one’s periphery, she had to settle for a simple and honest “Thank you”. She got up and took the sample from the shelf, then walked over to Cecil. Not sure how to use it, she simply spilled a few drops on the male’s head, hoping it would work. And it did – in no time Cecil got back to being his own self, trying to remember what he’d been doing, crouching on the floor. Dana quickly hushed him and pointed to the radio stand, explaining that the audition had already begun.

 

As Cecil moved to his chair to resume the audition, Dana left the studio and with the brush of her cheek and the almost inaudible, subtle breathing somewhere against the side of her neck she knew that she didn’t leave it all alone.


End file.
